Odaijini
by jlc1987
Summary: Inspired by a lack of mutual affection and the holiday season, Hiei writes a note to Kurama explaining why he acts in his introverted manner implied HK


Od**aiji**_ni_

As a living being, I will accept the good and the bad in myself. As a slave to my own personality, I will analyze my actions until I figure out how I got to where I am now. As a man of my word, I will write this all down as to extend a hand to help or be helped; kill or be killed.

I remember now. When I was younger I wanted to be the moon. I am almost positive that, back then, my reasoning for this was something of a superficial nature; another 'I want it now' from a mouth to cocky and senseless to understand its destined hypocrisy. Back then, I guess I only aspired to be the moon because it was famous and prominent and bright. However, I must admit that I continue to have this fervent desire to be able to compare myself to the moon, but for a different, more mature reason.

To fully explain my reasoning, I feel it is necessary to cite my feelings about sunlight. It wasn't long after noon today that I saw a little girl playing in a public park. She was smiling and giggling even though she was all by herself, and her golden locks reflected the sun's every ray. This little girl couldn't have been less than six years old.

I imagine this girl in a forest, all alone. Let's say it was noon in this forest. The sun sparkles through the trees that surround her, and a falling leaf or two uplift her heart. She feels like she's in a magic kingdom, in which fairies exist and it's Yule every day. This beautiful young lady in encouraged to wander the forest, and eventually find her way home. Back to her mommy and daddy; back to a warm dinner; back home.

But and there's always a but let's pretend that this magical setting now takes place at midnight. Suddenly those pretty gold trees turn into intimidating monsters through the little girl's eyes. A few leaves fall behind her, and she's certain she will die any minute, when in reality there is no more danger there than there was in the forest glowing with sunlight. This girl has to trust in herself, and gather the courage to take a mere step forward into the moonlight. She becomes stronger this way, and therefore the moonlight helped her grow. Do you see what I mean? The moonlight guided the apprehensive girl back home.

The sun facilitates everything, while the moon forces people to think for themselves. The sun is a pretty thing, but the moon is beautiful.

Now, I wouldn't dare imply that you yourself are ever going to end up in a dark forest like this little girl. Nor am I implying that by merely looking at the moon will you be able to instantaneously gather the insight to solve all of your problems. With just the moon, you can't gain fame or fortune. You can't explain your own consequential actions to your best friend with moonlight, but I can only see the paper that I'm writing on with the aid of the sparkling moon above me.

I mark this moment one of enlightenment.

I want to describe what I'm seeing through my eyes right now, so you can get the feel of who I really am. I want you to see how I distort things as so you can understand me better.

I am sitting on a bench in a public courtyard in Tokyo. I'm sure there are other things that should stand out to me, but all I see when I look up from my writing it a background of trees. I'm sure that was what stirred that forest metaphor in my head.

The leaves are the only things on the trees that I see clearly. Each color, vein, up and down it the outline of each individual leaf is prominent to me. The rest of the scene, however, is a blur.

People litter this place, and their unrelenting chatter presents a din to me that feeds me the desire to kill them all. I can't hear their specific words, but the **noise **of it makes me fantasize. With one flick of my wrist, I want to make sure none of them **speak **again. I want to cut them up, and fill this park with strawberry.

J

The air here is drawing unwilling tears from my eyes. It's so cold that it stings.

_(We like our word play, don't we?)_

The weather is supposed to be like this in December, so bitter and windy. You would refer to me as born in December, wouldn't you? No, I was born in January. Isn't _that_ ironic?

It's not as ironic as the smell of this damn park air. It's **spiked** with the scent of eggnog, and mixed with the laughter of giddy children.

Eggnog is your favorite drink, am I right? You tasted like it when I kissed you, though I'm not sure if you were aware of it then.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing here," I'd said when you woke up. I was sitting at the edge of your bed, staring at your day-by-day calendar. There was a 'December 24' written on it in red and green, and the print underneath red 'Copyright 2004, by Tsumide, inc.' That print was in black. I know this because, after I carefully snuck into your room through the open window of your house, carefully pulled the blankets down from over your head, carefully stared at your beautiful sleeping figure, carefully pried your supple lips apart with my tongue . . .

And you slept though it all, and you tasted like eggnog. So, after I was done with you, I took my place. I sat myself at the edge of your bed. I didn't disturb you I was silent.

Ha, but when you woke up, you grumbled something about feeling violated. I didn't violate you I captured what was rightfully mine. You wouldn't have any of _those_ kinds of excuses.

My stomach is burning with pain. It feels like I'm pregnant, but that couldn't happen, right? I'm still a virgin, and even if you took me . . . My body isn't the type for that sort of thing.

'If I betray myself I'd be taking the easy way out.' Ms. Ringo sings to me through speakers over my head. It's funny, when I go into the department stores in December, they're usually playing some variation of 'i'm Dreaming of a WHITE christmas.' I think I might play you the newest version of that song, or maybe we can just listen to this 'Od**aiji**_ni_' I like so much.

Both Ms. Ayumi and Ms. Ringo are very unique and talented.

Consciousness.

'Mother, are you ashamed of this mixed child of yours?'

Guess what, Mr. Altruist? My mother died. I don't know how old she was, either I was barely born! Ha, she killed herself because she fell in love with a man. Will I be the same way?

No, I don't believe in suicide. That's for those who are weak, and I'm not. I have the courage to write this, and in that I'm better than you.

'Just as I used to, I think I'll go out in the rain with my secret map. My back wet by a red suspicion, a spicy penalty. If horrible tragedy is all over this transient world, I'm all grown up now, so permit me to sing today, to laugh today. I'll protect what I will.'

Ms. Ringo AGREES.

You are a fool.

I am a fool.

Kimi ga aishita boku.

I love you.

You, named for the manipulating fox you are, asked me why I am the way I am. I'm not crazy. I wrote this for YOU and I'll wrap it in pretty Christmas paper and place it under your tree.

Just a few quick notes:

1. This is one of the most bizarre things I've ever written, but doesn't preserve. The original is full of font, size, and color changes in the text. Everything you can see as a typo (i.e. misuse of capitals) is intentional.

2. 'Odaijini' means 'take care of yourself' or 'get well soon' in Japanese. It's also the name of the Shiina Ringo song Hiei's listening to.

3. 'I want to fill this park withstrawberry' refers to the infamous song 'Berry' by Dir en Grey which depicts a young child contemplating murdering every member of his family.

4. Hiei's references to 'Ms Ringo' and 'Ms Ayumi' are about two famous Japanese singers: Hamasaki Ayumi (sings 'Dearest,' 'Evolution', and 'Still Alone') and Shiina Ringo (ex-solo now fronts Tokyo Jihen; sings 'Kuki', 'Gibusu', and she covered 'Lastoshima' with Utada Hikaru)

5. Hiei's thoughts about 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas' refer to Hamasaki Ayumi's cover of the song.

6. 'Kimi ga aishita boku' means 'I loved you' in Japanese.


End file.
